Will Ferrell has his own distinct audience. Most of the films he makes
are geared for that audience. However, in “Talladega Nights” he strips
all those gears and tears the knob off.

Ferrell plays NASCAR driver Ricky Bobby, the outrageous blue collar
hero of the high-octane sport of stock car racing. The name alone, as
American as apple pie, is worth the price of admission. “Ricky Bobby”
has got to be the most Southern name of any driver in NASCAR! It’s
As usual, Ferrell turns in a Will Ferrell acting job, part script ,
part ad-lib. When he starts chewing through a scene, it’s sometimes
hard to tell where the scripted stuff ends and the improvisation
starts. As Ricky Bobby, Ferrell turns out to be full-on American,
stupidly redneck, impossible heroic, impossibly dumb, and vulnerable.
Few actors could achieve that range within a single movie. And few
critics would acknowledge Ferrell’s ambiguous mastery of those traits.

I have to step away from a purely professional review of this movie for
a moment just to bring a personal perspective into the mix because I
feel it’s necessary. I habitually, and yes—I do mean habitually, don’t
care for Will Ferrell movies. I can’t buy into the inane characters,
weird plots, or the unevenness.

However, I absolutely love Ferrell in “Talladega Nights: The Ballad of
Ricky Bobby.” There’s a completeness and a connection in the movie that
I don’t ordinarily get. “Elf” is the only other Ferrell movie I’ve seen
through completely, and I generally catch it with my kids at Christmas.

But Ferrell is genuinely ersatz in this movie to the point that it’s
howlingly funny. Even when the inane pratfalls fell into place exactly
as I thought they would, I still felt rewarded when I saw the movie in
the theaters and again on Blu-ray. Ferrell’s antics on the screen
seemed to bring out the best in the other actors.

John C. Riley plays Cal Naughton, Jr., Ricky Bobby’s life-long friend
and companion in peril. Together they’re “Shake and Bake”. Riley does a
great job of being a friend in the first half of the film, then as a
rival in the second after he steals Ricky Bobby’s wife and position on
the racing team.

Gary Cole, as Reese Bobby, Ricky’s long-absent dad, blew me away. I’ve
seen him in humorous stuff before and he’s frequent voice on cartoon
shows, but I’d never seen him out there to the degree he was in this
film. Even as whacked-out and weird as he was, I understood his
motivation clearly throughout the film.

Michael Clarke Duncan plays Lucius Washington, Ricky Bobby’s pit crew
chief. Duncan has a commanding physical presence in every film he’s in,
but in this one he gets to show more of his comedic stretch.

Ricky Bobby’s sons, Walker and Texas Ranger, were played by Houston
Tumlin and Grayson Russell. Their acting was over the top as well, but
it really suited the mood of the roles they starred in. They were
definitely not politically correct, but anyone who’s been raised around
kids who weren’t trained to act like kids knows children tend to act
like adults.

Sacha Baron Cohen starred as Jean Girard, Ricky Bobby’s arch-nemesis
and the perfect villain for the movie. He’s a French Grand Prix driver
and homosexual, basically everything the average dedicated NASCAR fan
would stand against. Not only that, but Cohen brings an extra wallop to
the role by acting boorish and attracted to Ricky Bobby.

With all these characters in motion, the film could have gotten lost or
wandered too far astray. Instead, it hews to the same kind of plot line
that made other B-grade movies like “Rocky III” and “The Replacements”
work. Ricky Bobby is a hero fallen from the top, tripped up by his own
huge ego, then scared to try again because he doesn’t know how he truly
became great in the first place. It’s an archetypal plot, but it’s one
of those that works time and time again.

The movie begins with a peek back at Ricky Bobby’s childhood. He’s born
in the back of a speeding car, then abandoned by his daddy. At five
years old, Ricky Bobby’s only real words and drive is, “I want to go
fast.” He steals the family car while his mom is in the convenience
store, then demonstrates the kind of driving that will one day get him
into NASCAR. Later, while in school and the lifelong friendship with
Cal Naughton has begun, he sees his father again. Reese Bobby shows up
for the day to explain his job, which is racing. The reunion only lasts
a few minutes before Reese is taken out of the building by police. But
it leaves an impression on Ricky Bobby when his daddy tells him, “If
you ain’t first, you’re last!”

Ricky Bobby grows up to live by those words. He starts racing, and he
starts winning. No one can stop him. No one can hold him back. He and
Cal form the best team on the tracks and no one can defeat their brand
of “shake and bake”.

As Ricky Bobby gets successful, he also gets married to his “smokin’
hot” wife and has two children, Walker and Texas Ranger. Their family
existence is showcased at Thanksgiving as they sit around in a large,
lavish house while eating buckets and bags of fast food produced by
Ricky Bobby’s various sponsors. The prayer before the meal is one of
the most remembered, and most quoted, sequences from the film. It’s
offensive, nowhere near politically correct, and totally Will Ferrell.

Although the uncompressed sound has been good up to this point in the
Blu-ray disc, the rumble of the engines and the shredding tires really
blast surround sound systems during the races. This is one of those
discs that will wake up the neighbors if you crank it for the full
experience.

As good as Ricky Bobby is, he makes enemies—his arrogance makes people
want to see him fall. Jean Girard is brought in to race at NASCAR.
(Since the two racing styles are very different in many ways, including
the cars they drive, this is somewhat improbable, but Will Ferrell
movies tend to be all about improbable so reality is out the door from
the first frame.)

When Ricky Bobby and Girard meet in one of the racer bars, no one
expects the French race car driver to so thoroughly dominate, but
does—in a battle of wits, then in physical prowess. The patrons of the
bar where they meet, especially Ricky Bobby, are stunned. The next day
on the racetrack, Girard edges out Ricky Bobby for the win. For the
first time, Ricky Bobby doesn’t come in first. Therefore, he’s last.

Ridiculous as it sounds, losing one race breaks Ricky Bobby’s spirit
and his control behind the wheel. He’s a shattered husk of his former
self. The scene where he climbs out of the car thinking he’s on fire,
then strips down to his underwear and rolls to put out the flames is
insane. Few people could make something like that work. Even though
Ferrell doesn’t pull it off with any true elegance, it stands as a
prime example of what Ricky Bobby is going through.

He plunges into despair and timidity, becoming a pizza delivery guy,
losing his wife and best friend, his house, his money, and even his
driver’s license. When Ricky Bobby hits rock bottom, he’s stuck with
kids that don’t love or respect him. With nowhere else to turn, he goes
home. And that’s when the saving grace of his dysfunctional family
rises to save the day.

Reese Bobby returns to coach his son on driving. The lessons are
hilariously stupid, obnoxious, and—somehow—funny. When Ricky Bobby had
to drive with the cougar in the car, I totally lost it. When Ricky
Bobby fights with the cougar, viewers can see the cougar isn’t real,
but Ferrell plays it out anyway and that somehow makes it even funnier.
It feels like he’s laughing with the audience at that point, and you
almost expect him to stand up and wink knowingly at the audience.
Taking his driving test with the cougar in the car, his fear totally
under control, is the icing on the cake.

Although the movie tends more toward the predictable at that point,
it’s still a treat. The family getting thrown out of Applebee’s was
another turning point that leaves a mark, though you have to wonder how
many people tried to get thrown out of one of those restaurants after
the movie.

The disc comes generously packed with a lot of extras. The gag reel
filled with the cast’s antics has to be seen to be believed. You have
to wonder if the days ever felt like work or if it was like getting up
to go play at the playground every day. While it’s understandable why
the deleted scenes were deleted and some scenes cut short, it’s fun to
watch them on the disc. The staged interviews of the characters rather
than the actors were a hoot.

Admittedly, “Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby” isn’t going
to be to everyone’s liking, this movie comes close to being one for the
general audience instead of the fans just as “Elf” was. The NASCAR
background will likewise draw people in or turn them off. This is
probably not a date movie, but it’s definitely one for the guys of all
ages—except for those few scenes where the language or sexual
situations might not be considered appropriate. One thing can be said,
though: there’s never been a NASCAR movie like this one. Even Burt
Reynolds’s “Stoker Ace” wasn’t this far out. But when it comes to being
champion comedic stock car movie, if you ain’t first, you’re last.